Youthful Creatures
nous sommes brisés
"It isn't supposed to be like this," she told her friend, the one of the only that remained. Her friend looked from side to side, her nose red from the nip of the frosty winds, but she kept quiet and waited for the observation to continue.
"Being a teenager shouldn't be this hard," the first girl spoke again, "This isn't how I expected my life to be at sixteen, y'know? I expect high school to be a great fun time, like they show on TV. I expected to get big breasts and become popular and have the guys chase after me. I expected to drink and party and smoke, and maybe even get addicted to heroine because in the end, my supporting group of friends would have convinced me to kick the habit. But no, that's not how it is. All of that seems so fucking easy compared to the real world."
"Heroine addicted teenagers have it easy?" Her friend snorted, mocking her. She felt her friend was being utterly ridiculous.
The girl sighed. "It almost seems like it. Today, though they try to convey the high school experience in shows in movies, they only end up glorifying it. Try as they might, they will never understand that its everyone who feels alone everyday. Not just some kid who gets picked on or a popular kid with no true friends. All of us are alone, all of us are damaged. All of us are fucked up in one or another and each one of us are scared of letting our fuck ups control us. We're afraid of the secrets we tell and are suicidal over promises we make. To be a teenager is to be an emotional-fucking-mess, to never know what to feel or why you're feeling it. You hate your parents, generally for no reason, and the most insignificant relationship means life or death."
"You don't believe all that, do you?"
"I do, I have to. I've seen it. I feel it every day. My friends have all moved on from me, one by one, scared of the mistakes I might bring or the mistakes they may bring to me. You're all that's left. Even with the greatest best friend in the world, I feel so utterly alone," the girl sighed and rubbed her temple. Her voice was but a whisper when she spoke again. "We youth are fragile, suicidal creatures."
Her friend turned to her, head cocked and doe eyes gleaming in a winter sunrise. "Are you suicidal?"
The girl thought for a moment. "I'm a teenager, aren't I?"
"Being a teenager shouldn't be this hard," the first girl spoke again, "This isn't how I expected my life to be at sixteen, y'know? I expect high school to be a great fun time, like they show on TV. I expected to get big breasts and become popular and have the guys chase after me. I expected to drink and party and smoke, and maybe even get addicted to heroine because in the end, my supporting group of friends would have convinced me to kick the habit. But no, that's not how it is. All of that seems so fucking easy compared to the real world."
"Heroine addicted teenagers have it easy?" Her friend snorted, mocking her. She felt her friend was being utterly ridiculous.
The girl sighed. "It almost seems like it. Today, though they try to convey the high school experience in shows in movies, they only end up glorifying it. Try as they might, they will never understand that its everyone who feels alone everyday. Not just some kid who gets picked on or a popular kid with no true friends. All of us are alone, all of us are damaged. All of us are fucked up in one or another and each one of us are scared of letting our fuck ups control us. We're afraid of the secrets we tell and are suicidal over promises we make. To be a teenager is to be an emotional-fucking-mess, to never know what to feel or why you're feeling it. You hate your parents, generally for no reason, and the most insignificant relationship means life or death."
"You don't believe all that, do you?"
"I do, I have to. I've seen it. I feel it every day. My friends have all moved on from me, one by one, scared of the mistakes I might bring or the mistakes they may bring to me. You're all that's left. Even with the greatest best friend in the world, I feel so utterly alone," the girl sighed and rubbed her temple. Her voice was but a whisper when she spoke again. "We youth are fragile, suicidal creatures."
Her friend turned to her, head cocked and doe eyes gleaming in a winter sunrise. "Are you suicidal?"
The girl thought for a moment. "I'm a teenager, aren't I?"
♠ ♠ ♠
Disclaimer: I don't actually think that people addicted to drugs have it easy, it was just a thing that went along with the story.